06.07.06

My Life in a Broken Nutshell

Posted in General, Thoughts at 6:02 am by Nick

I’ve been thinking about writing a post such as this since Elyse wrote hers. About a week ago I had been writing the post when my mouse decided to be a bitch and spontaneously change pages (I need a new one, ack)! Several hours of writing (probably quite a few pages…) down the drain. Oh well.

After this you should know quite a bit about me, and you’ll know even more if you are adventurous enough to read my post on my personality type (ENFJ).

ANNOYINGLY LARGE CAPITALIZED WARNING: BEWARE OF SUPER LONG POST

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**The Past**

Lets start with some super basic background information. I was born in Iowa City and shortly after we moved to Michigan (Walled Lake, near Ann Arbor). We lived there for six years before moving back to Iowa, and to Cedar Falls. Life was pretty normal up to this point (as far as I knew).

My dad (Steve) hooked up with John Deere and we moved to Cedar Falls. I was to be a 4^th grader. It seemed like a pretty normal move. I met quite a few people at Hansen Elementary and all seemed well… until it all spiraled out of control that is.

My dad is a type one diabetic. This means his body produces no insulin of its own and he is completely dependant on taking regular doses. Working long hours and overtime as an engineer definitely didn’t help him remember. I remember a few times in Michigan where my mom (Cindy) told me he had a “minor” car accident (broken ribs) due to his condition or his co-workers found him in insulin shock (which means he was probably having a seizure) at work.

Not long after we arrived in CF my dad got into a very serious car accident. After spending a short time legally dead (I can’t remember if it was twenty seven seconds, or one minute and twenty seven seconds) he was revived and kept in the ICU. Later he was moved to the University of Iowa Hospital. This was where I remember seeing him for the first time, and I have to say that no matter what emotions I showed at the time I was absolutely terror-stricken. I hadn’t seen him in several months and the first time I saw him he was unconscious in the ICU with tubes, bandages, and various machines enveloping his figure.

I’m still unsure how my mom managed to hold it all together. If we didn’t have so much family here in Iowa (especially in Iowa City with my aunt Christy and my grandparents) we probably would have been screwed. My mom later admitted that if the same situation had occurred back in Michigan we never could have recovered from the costs (mentally, physically, monetarily…). I was an oblivious, selfish, dumb little fourth grader that had no idea what was -really- going on at the time. I rarely saw either of my parents and my grandparents became the biggest influence in my life. Aunt Vicki, my mom’s older sister, is a teacher and helped get me through a bit of fourth grade this year (since I was in Iowa City for a great deal of it).

After a while of living in Iowa City without school I was put into a local school there. I don’t really remember too much about that. I made some good friends, lost my favorite football, and then lost all of those friends in a few short months.

Coming back to CF was really strange. No one (granted we were all fourth graders) knew what really happened. To be honest, I was pretty confused about the whole thing as well. It was somewhat touching though. I hadn’t realized that people actually wrote me cards on a daily basis and there was a special box for people to put them in.

5^th grade. Life was pretty strange still. I didn’t see my dad much, and my mom was away a lot of the time. I had no idea at the time what was going on. I just went to school and concentrated on school. I think I had a rather large vacuum of time to fill, so I actually tried to excel at school. I don’t remember too much about this time. I do know this is when I met David and we (David, Austin, and I) developed our little tripod. We did almost everything as a trio and I had a lot of good times.

I can’t remember what time it was that I saw my dad conscious and talking for the first time since the accident. It was strange because I didn’t know what had happened to him. For the unknowing, my dad has short-term memory loss (which is quite possibly the worst combination with type one diabetes). The first time I talked to him he asked me how school was a dozen times in less than a half hour. It kind of freaked me out, but you get used to it. He has gotten much better over the years, but it will never be perfect (for instance, two days ago he asked when the appointment at the bank was three or four times in an hour). This also means several large things: he will never work again, he will never drive a car or operate machinery again, he can never use his tools (electrical engineer ) again, and he will never again be able to build his models or rockets.

I started getting depressed due to the above (bad with timing, not sure when exactly it was). At the age I was at the time (10 or 11?), your dad is still the absolute strongest and almost superhero like figure in your life. And yet, I remember how he had to relearn how to read, how to follow simple directions, and how to walk.

6^th grade. Don’t remember too much about this either. I think this was the year I made my first web site. According to Beth (the grief councilor I talked to after my mother died in April), this is where I found my outlet to deal with depression. I spent some serious time on the computer learning all there was to know about HTML (via a free website on Angelfire). It’s not much when I look back now, but everyone has to start somewhere.

I also remember 6^th grade being very similar to 5^th except that I was a bit more depressed. My parents were always elsewhere it seemed. Or maybe I was just busy being anti-social with my family. It’s hard to say now. There was some relatively high family tension (mainly between CJ and Dan/myself) at this point.

This year I think was probably (again, bad with the exact timing) the first year I ever touched a MUD. Dan showed me Gundam Wing MUD, which we were both quite attached to. It was fun having a whole community of people with similar interests, similar knowledge, and it was all make believe. No one could judge you based on anything besides how you acted. It was a new experience, and it was one I became fond of. Dan also showed me Avatar MUD, which, like now and probably always, was played in waves

7^th grade brought some huge changes. A new school (Holmes Junior High), new teachers, and new people. I met Jim Sprau this year, and I need to contribute my technological adeptness to him. I probably would have just continued to fiddle with web sites if he hadn’t pushed me to bigger and better things. Thanks to him I got involved with the Variety Show (doing spotlight) and I helped with the school web page. I made movies, animations, and other things.

Also in 7^th grade I met Seth (after talking about Harvest Moon 64 in art class), and soon after he introduced me to Logan. I introduced both of them to David, and for a while we had a quadrapod. I had a lot of good times with these people as well. I think this was the year (or was it 8^th grade?) where Logan and I developed the relatively infamous “I want to be a unicorn!” and “Snoop Dog!” jokes. This may also be the year we founded the trashcan tradition. Ah, good times.

Until recently I never considered myself depressed at the time. Beth pointed out that I was, I just dealt with it effectively. I poured even more time into MUDs, web sites, and technology (again, thanks to Mr. Sprau). I see now it started to get out of hand (though not nearly as much as 8^th grade) time wise. Luckily I don’t spend -that- much time on my computer anymore (on a small tangent, I think I’m largely stereotyped on computer time usage. There are usually a couple days each week where I don’t even touch my computer, let alone spend hours and hours on them (without any drive to play MUDs, and FFXI out of the way, my computer doesn’t see much action unless I’m programming)).

Early in 7^th grade I had broken my arm trying to avoid seriously injuring a kid while roller blading at the roller rink place (Rollerdome? I don’t remember the name). I only bring this up because it’s part of below (kind of).

Things at home seemed “normal” since I didn’t really deal with them too much. I feel absolutely terrible for not knowing the date of this upcoming event. It may have been around this time, or it may have been 6^th grade.

Somewhere in here my mom got breast cancer (as if life wasn’t bad enough). ::sigh:: I really feel bad about this. We never talked about it much. We all just kind of said, “Wow, life sucks. I can hardly believe this shit…” and left it at that. I remember going to the hospital (Allen) after my mom’s definitive surgery. She didn’t seem any different from normal, and she never talked about it. Something like a week later I ended up in the -same exact room- that she was in at Allen after they broke my right arm to realign it.

8^th grade. A lot happened this year. I continued with the Variety Show, I started up GW:EW (later GW:A, and now… dead), and I started -real- programming (in C).

I felt relatively social this year. I still feel like I helped pull Dan up from the depths of depression by getting him in with my friends (via lunch and the Variety Show (which later lead to him meeting Lauren)). At lunch we established the shooting-milk-out-of-nose competition between Logan and myself (which, if I recall correctly, I won rather decisively). A lot of jokes (most of the “inside” variety) were also established. Two for Logan: glasses and pictures.

A big part of 8^th grade was Science Club. I met a lot of awesome people here, and this is where we established our more permanent (though seemingly ever-changing) group. We went to the Science Olympiad and took 3^rd. There were a lot of interesting stories here (like our messed up airplane), so you’ll have to ask around if you are curious.

I’ll be honest, I felt a bit out of place. I never had a truly deep individual I could spill my guts, my thoughts, and my mind to (well, not in person, see the next paragraph). I think this was also the year I was deemed “Sir Nicholas the Wise”. I found (and continue to find) this very interesting. Someone once told me that I gave great advice, and yet due to my lack of deep, serious connections with people I only gave that “great advice” a few (four?) times. I was also feeling relatively estranged. It was very obvious there was a lot going on in people’s lives, and yet no one told me anything. Later when I knew more of the details it was increasingly easy to tell when people were lying to me. To my face no less. That hurts you know. I guess I just wasn’t close enough anyone to deserve the truth from the correct individuals at the time.

Since GW:EW was established this year, it was the year I met one of my best friends: Carl George Wallace. Many of you probably know him as Lhur. And yes, I’ve never actually met him. However, I’ve probably talked to him more than most of you readers. He remains one of my best friends to this day, though we are both often busy with life. Carl has been one of the biggest influences in my life. I would say he changed my personality immensely. He helped focus my mind, my thoughts, and thanks to him I pursued intelligence with highly increased vigor (if only to rival his unmatched wisdom). While I have a lot to say about Carl and his influences, I will continue on with my life story.

During this summer I detasseled for the first time. Brett, Logan, Dan, and myself. This is probably my favorite year of detasseling, though probably also the most horrific. We had a huge number of people who sucked at detasseling, and we had a lot of lazy complainers. Our bus was also obnoxiously loud.

Of all my years, and all of my times (apart from recently), I was probably the most depressed now. Earlier in life I was relatively care free and oblivious to how much my family really suffered. Since Carl opened me to deeper thinking, I dwelled a lot on the bad things. Without any support crutch in real life, I continued my endeavors to learn programming. I really felt abandoned.

This is also the time when I took up one of my favorite habits (and my favorite outlet) I ever had: meditation. However, I never had clarity of mind. I would seriously sit for hours just thinking, not moving an inch, and quite possibly staring at something. It was the equivalent of taking a nap for me. I felt better, and often energized afterwards. I became very good at picking out details in things, and my vocabulary started to grow because of it. Consequently, hours of doing nothing but thinking can bring out the worst in people. I won’t lie here and say suicide was never a thought on my mind. However, it was never an option. Suicide, like many thoughts, came into my mind and left my mind just the same (you can see my conjectures on suicide at the end of this post). I think the book Remembering the Good Times that we read in 8^th grade English played a fair role in even considering suicide. We talked about it quite a bit in class and that helped me form my views.

Sadly, due to recent events, I have lost the concentration and focus needed to do my meditation. Perhaps next school year I can resume my daily thinking. And, hopefully, my academic focus will return with it.

[edit] I realize now that my evening walks are my new form of meditation. [/edit]

Also during this year Carl made me realize how I dealt with anger. I go into a silent rage. If it’s truly bad I might even start to shake. My mind toils with every possible thought about what has happened, needs to happen, and the consequences of my possible actions. It was interesting because I had admitted that I “never got angry”, which is quite the lie. I had been rather oblivious to it. Luckily with this new knowledge I learned to deal with my anger rather effectively (Counter-Strike is good for something… as is Tetris). As it turns out, it takes a lot of energy to be angry, so I can avoid it pretty well now. To this day most people have never seen me angry (it is quite different from annoyed or upset).

9^th grade. I felt pretty different after the summer between 8^th and 9^th grade. It seemed life was looking up. However, I still felt alienated from people. I felt like I was friends with everyone, but at the same time I wasn’t really good friends with anyone. I started to pursue this problem a bit more, but I never found a real remedy.

This year I continued with my technology outlet. I was Head Student Director (woo, big title) for the Variety Show. I continued with Science Club (we came in 3^rd overall again, which was disappointing). I became rather confident in my coding abilities, though now that I look back it was really more arrogance than confidence. Sure I could add a new function to my MUD, or fix a crash inducing bug. But could I program a balanced binary tree with a string to integer map? No. I didn’t even know what a BTree was. I’m glad I talked to Beth; I probably never would have realized that my depression resulted in my programming abilities.

I don’t recall too much else from this year that is worth noting. Life pretty much continued for me the way it was at the end of eighth grade (which, unfortunately, was pretty crappy). I put a definite focus on my academics, though it didn’t really require much work.

Towards the end of this year I met a new good friend via Hillary (Carl’s woman): Brian/ProgrammerX/EvilPuffBall. I had never had anyone who I could talk about programming with until I met him. When I said my null pointer was causing a crash and GDB couldn’t catch it, he knew what I meant. Gradually our relationship grew into a pretty deep friendship, and now I would consider him among my best friends.

Home life was pretty decent if I recall. Granted we almost always had someone with a broken rib, or leg, or toe, or something (usually one of the parents). I was away from school a lot just because of stress (somewhat self-inflicted).

10^th grade. What a crazy year. I was pretty much completely unprepared for the work Chem. A required (I worked my ass off for that A-). Had some interesting classes. Kicked the shit out of Intro to Programming. Then again, who doesn’t?

I told myself that 10^th grade would be better. It was going to be great. Really great. Except that it wasn’t. My mom pointed out late this year that when I fail I’m way to hard on myself (which is something I need to work on), and I simply felt like a failure. I’m not even sure why. I have absolutely no idea what I was aspiring to.

Socially, 10^th grade was better to an extent. I was less able to do things with my friends due to family life and whatever the hell else was stopping me (self-sabotage?). A few people kind of dropped off and I began to know a few people better, though it wasn’t nearly enough.

While everyone was running around and dealing with the drama of high school I was dealing with more real drama. I felt kind of excluded from the drama of high school, but I’m rather thankful I was. I had no real business in it. I’d rather deal with making sure my dad eats his dinner so he doesn’t have a low blood sugar than worry about a feud between two people over something dumb and pointless.

I would say 10^th grade was the greatest year for pondering. A lot of thinking went on. A lot of day dreaming as well. I became a bit more anti-social simply to think. My thoughts kept me company. Sure I had people to hang out with, but I had no one to turn to. Carl was busy with life, and so I got very into my LAE project (which lead to a lot of talking with Brian). Personally I felt like programming was all I had. I felt a lot like I had in previous years: like I was a cold shell of a person protecting a dormant personality. Beth pointed out that years of harsh emotional endurance lead to this, and though I may not look it, I may be crumbling beneath my strong and convincing façade.

I feel like I’m omitting a massive amount of information here, and yet I’m not really sure what else to say.

** The Present **

11^th grade. Probably the craziest year of my life. The best semester academically (yay college) of my life along with the worst month of my life all rolled into the same year.

This year started out awesome. Good classes, good teachers, and college. More specifically, college. College is great (especially when you are in high school ). However, it didn’t take long for life to interfere and ruin a good thing.

Only a few months into school (maybe not even a few) my mom went into the hospital. All of the hospital stuff has become a blur, so I won’t be very specific here. It didn’t seem too serious at first. Then she went to Iowa City and my dad left and life actually became easier. There was far less to concentrate on at home (taking care of parents is time consuming). My mom was discharged and then readmitted half a dozen times (maybe more) over the course of the year. I’ve become very familiar with calling 911 and going to emergency rooms. For a long, incredibly shitty 8 months my mom struggled with cirrhosis and the other problems it induced until she passed away on April 1^st.

When my mom’s sickness escalated I thought quite a bit. There were a lot of “What Ifs” going through my mind. Then, one day (probably the day before she went DNR (do not resuscitate)), I thought about life if she died. I actually thought about how life might actually be better. Then I felt like a terrible person and I proceeded to be pissed at myself (to be honest I’m surprised I didn’t actually hurt myself over this, apart from my very anti-cutting and anti-suicidal attitude) for a day or two. I then went the deepest into depression I’ve ever been. And I did it alone. No one was there. I had no computer (I was in Iowa City). I had a bowl of popcorn, lots of time, and the X-files.

After such a time I thought I had picked myself up and reassembled all of the pieces that had fallen apart. I -thought- I prepared myself for it. I knew it was a possibility, and the most likely outcome. But then my Christy told me my mother had had enough. You can’t prepare yourself for that. You can’t prepare yourself for someone telling you your parent is going to die. And again I felt like a bad person. Somehow I convinced myself that it was my fault and I proceeded to be pretty pissed off at myself again. Somehow I managed to remove that mindset long enough to visit my mom and see her a few times before she died. Here’s the strange thing though. I cried and was very upset when she went DNR, but when my aunt told me she died I just felt like the cold person I was acting like (I was pretty pissed once again for being in CF when she actually died). I guess, to me, my mom really died the night she went DNR.

[edit] This may be particularly hard for some people to realize, but I am nearly parentless now. My dad cannot be who he used to be, and though he still flipping amazing, he holds zero power in our lives (sadly). I technically lost him years ago, and now I’ve lost my mother. I’m wandering through the fog of life with no lights to guide my way…[/edit]

The visitation and funeral were probably two hardest days of my life. It took some drive to even go, let alone greet and converse with people. Luckily a few friends showed up each day and that helped. After the funeral, lunch, and burial, I went home to my grandma’s house and I collapsed and slept for fifteen hours. I’ve never been so tired.

A brief thought: In reality, I am tired. I am tired of it all. I’ve had to fight my whole life. And now I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting. When can I ever rest? Next year must be better. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be good. It just has to be better than absolutely terrible. Hell, if it’s a “normal” year next year I’ll be ecstatic.

Note: this section may be particularly harsh

I merged back into life here in CF rather nicely (or so I thought). However, when I got back (most) people acted like nothing happened (which I somewhat expected). Dan put it best, “I understand not knowing what to say, but saying nothing?” In some instances, I’d prefer the saying nothing. I did get a few “I’m sorry” s, but some of the most absurd comments quickly took meaning from those (between the “is she still kickin?” and “wow… I‘d commit suicide“ I was pretty ready to leave CF never to return). I’m not really saying I want to push the topic, but what the fuck?

In any event, all of this has completely changed my life. Absolutely nothing will be the same next year. This change, while not wanted over the impossible alternative, will receive a rather warm welcome. My mother’s death has brought me closer to three specific people (which is good), but has also torn me apart from many others (communication goes a long way people).

Oh, and if anyone was wondering way back when I had a post that talked about me being mad at something other than the obvious situation (my mothers death), it was that the week my mom went DNR my crazy awesome cousin was diagnosed with bone cancer. Now she has to lose her entire leg. ::sigh:: My family must have done something very bad in an alternate universe/past life.

** The Future ** (I’ll try to keep it short)

So, what does the future hold? I’m not really sure. This summer proves to be a busy one with moving stuff, selling houses, and all of the other jazz that goes along with that.

I hope dearly that I will end up with an apartment next year and I’ll finish high school with no problems.

After high school I’ll probably end up at UNI. If Caltech accepts me I’ll be absolutely torn over what I’m going to do. I plan (at UNI anyway) to double major with CS and Management (Business Administration).

Ultimately I would like to get out of college and get a good job (work up to CEO/CIO of a good company perhaps), eventually create my own company, sell my company (and/or retire), and finally become a college professor (and probably teach at UNI).

Beyond that, my future is uncertain. A family and kids fits in there somewhere, but I won’t put a clock on something that shouldn’t be rushed.

** Conjectures **

- Suicide -

I feel like I should say my piece about suicide. Firstly, don’t do it. I once heard that “it is a permanent solution to a temporary problem”, which is a very good point. Life is challenging. If I can make it through life then so can you. And, to go with a quote from Deadliest Catch, “Life may suck sometimes, but the alternative is unacceptable.” Just think how incredibly easy it is to die and how it is far more challenging to live. The whole world is before us; we must merely have the will to see it.

If you are considering it, talk to someone. If you have no one better (or no one period… I’ve been there) then comes talk to me. I’m always up for listening (this goes for everything, not just suicidal thoughts) and offering advice/help. Don’t go it alone. It sucks.

Also, please don’t joke about suicide. It is a very serious matter. Killing yourself is the easy way out, and I’ll admit that it can be tempting. However, it’s not the solution. It’s never the solution. There is a lot to live for.

Lastly, this point goes to a few select people (and its not specific to suicide per se). Don’t tell me what you would do if you had my life (because you don‘t). Telling me you would commit suicide (like one person did…) definitely wont make things better, and in fact it will just make me despise and pity you (and your low confidence in life and terrible will power).

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That’s not so bad, only 9 pages worth of text And it only took five hours to write.

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